“You’re hired.” I kiss him quickly, darting out of his arms to head toward the kitchen. I feel wired. Jittery, like I can’t stand still anymore. “Um, if I get the call from my mom that Dad’s having a bad day we won’t go tomorrow. We can do something else instead.”
“Got it,” Colt agrees affably. He follows me into the kitchen, immediately going to the ovens to turn them on for me. He knows the routine by now. “You lead the way, Hendricks. I’ll go where you go.”
I laugh as I toss him his apron before grabbing my own. Tying it behind my back is a chore. I have to stop to wring my hands together. To shake them out before trying again, and I hope that Colt doesn’t notice.
I hope he can’t see how bad they’re trembling.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
COLT
November 29th
Culver City, CA
Pictures of Lilly and me showed up on TMZ.com this morning.
Colt Avery has a new filly.
Fucking stupid.
The picture is from an incident we had with a ‘razzi at the bakery yesterday. Lilly had the backdoor propped open to let in some cool air after the ovens heated the place up and the guy burst in with his camera raised. He got a couple shots of Lilly and I rolling dough together before I threw him out. I locked the door tightly behind him.
Lilly smiled like it didn’t matter but she was different all morning. Tense. Jumpy. I know it’s because of all of the attention. It’s messing with her day to day life and I hate that shit so much. I wish there was a way I could make it stop, but I know I can’t. All we can do is wait it out and hope it dies down soon.
She’s still off this afternoon. She saw the picture online. She said there was another on Yahoo!’s newsfeed. One of us outside the bakery trying to make our way in. I didn’t look at it. It used to be I’d look at all of the pictures popping up of me, proud of the attention, but I’m not feeling it today and that has everything to do with Lilly.
It’s twelve twenty-two when I ask her, “Are you ready to go your parents’?”
She glances up from the donuts she’s filling with lemon jelly. “Almost.”
“We’re running late.”
She chuckles lightly. “Sloane told me you’re normally late to everything.”
“Most of the time, yeah.”
“You’re always early getting here in the morning.”
“That’s ‘cause I’ve got something to be excited about.”
I’m relieved when she looks up to smile at me. “Apple fritters?”
“Nah,” I chuckle. “Tiramisu.”
She lowers her head quickly. “How are you liking it so far?”
“It’s good. It’s the best dessert I’ve ever had.”
“It’s tedious, right?”
“It’s worth it.”
She brushes her hair away with the back of her hand, picking up another donut and waving it vaguely at me. “Not craving one of these?”
“Nope.”
“They’re good.”
I step behind her to wrap my arms around her waist, kissing her neck lightly. “Not as good as this,” I mumble.
She’s tense under my lips. She doesn’t melt into me the way she normally does. Her hands never stop working.
Ten minutes later she hands the shop off to John and Rona before following me outside to my car. There are only three ‘razzis today and they’re staying across the street. I recognize the motorcycle immediately. We’re going to be followed.
I wait until we’re pulling out of the parking lot to mention it to Lilly. She immediately jerks around in her seat to look back at him.
“Fucking again?” she murmurs. “Seriously, when are they going to stop?”
“It’s only been a couple of days. It’ll die down soon.”
“Until when? Your next game? You guys are headed for the Super Bowl. It’s going to get worse then, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it will,” I admit reluctantly. “But it’ll die down in the off season. We’ll lay low. No more bars, no clubs. I promise, they’ll get bored. Maybe we’ll get lucky and some actress will get pregnant. Take the heat off us.”
“They should be following Andreas. His love life is way more dramatic than ours.”
“They are following him. His ex-wife too.”
“Did she have the baby?” Lilly asks, her voice softening. She’s sitting forward in her seat again, her cell phone spinning methodically in her hand.
“Yeah. She had a boy.”
“Are they okay?”
“They’re both fine.”
“How’s Andreas doing?”
I shake my head, my lips pressed into a straight line. “I don’t know. Not good. Tyus says he went over there to visit him at his hotel and the blinds are drawn and it reeks of cigarettes. He’s barely going outside.”
Lilly winces. “He’s really depressed, isn’t he?”
“It’s ugly. We agreed it’s time to get him some help.”
“Like a therapist?”
“Yeah. He can’t keep going like this and we don’t how to help him.”
“That’s good that you’re doing that.”
“I feel like a fucking snitch, but I’d rather feel guilty for sending the docs after him than guilty for not helping him in time.”